


It's Better This Way

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 23:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10650672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Had this one sitting in my notes for a while, as always.This one goes out to you, ya miserable dirtbag.





	It's Better This Way

**Author's Note:**

> Had this one sitting in my notes for a while, as always.
> 
> This one goes out to you, ya miserable dirtbag.

The ribs inside Hanzo’s chest quiver and quake from the vibrations of the music. The beat thumps with all the strength of a merciless stampede, thunder clapping in his heart, squeezing it so tight he can hardly breathe.

Sweat cakes on his palms and face. Hands open and trembling, he stares into his flesh, clammy and glimmering with moisture. He can hear teeming crowds of people laughing and screaming with delight and it’s as if cruel reality seem to stare back at him as if it knows.

Those people are so happy to be alive with the thrum of the music; they let its influence course through them, the music drives them stark, raving mad and they dance. Dance until they no longer retained their humanity. 

Hanzo envies them. He lost his a long time ago, he remarks, turning the rope over in his fingers again and again. The utility closet reeks of stale piss and recent sex, his nose is turned up just trying to breathe, but there’s nothing that can be done about it. He knew he’d never really go through with it if he was in the comfort of his own home. He needs that final push to finally break him away from this world. 

He’s so focused on his goal that he doesn’t notice the vibration of his phone, once, twice, three times it calls until he finally acknowledges the flickering of the screen lighting up. He can’t imagine who it could be calling him so urgently, as if they actually gave as shit, as if ANYONE gave a shit. The thought was laughable, but something inside him aches with the longing to come crawling back and send some final teary eyed, blubbering voicemail to Genji. It’s the least honorable way to go out, he knows. He wants some sort of closure or comfort despite knowing he’d dug himself his own rotten, stinking hole. 

He has no family left to speak of. His peers and colleagues think of him as some freak. Genji would never look at him, let alone give him the light of day to make anything up to him. He only knows him as a failure of a brother and an example of what not to be, a reminder of what rock bottom looks like. 

Hanzo chokes back a sob he didn’t know he was about to let out and heaves a heavy sigh from the bottom of his stomach, delirious with grief. He knows he’s pathetic, that he’s utterly alone in the world and that if he died, there would be no dent upon the world.

Even then, something inside him struggles to break free. It might be the instinct to survive. 20 long years of regret, guilt, self-loathing and hate grind like rocks inside of him.

There’s nothing left for him in this world.

His blood pumps thick in his ears.

He wants to dance. He wants to go out dancing.

Hanzo sings to the tune of the music, it’s been his favorite song all along, he loves it so much. He barely notices how much time is passing, he can’t stop now. Genji would want it this way.

It’s not until Hanzo slips his head into the noose that he realizes that this is the most righteous thing he could ever do for humankind.

He imagines himself being found in some dirty utility closet in the back of a shitty club and a tear comes to his eye almost out of pride. That’s what he’d amount to. A corpse. Even now as he dances his way out of the world, the only thing that would change about him is that his lungs would fail him, his brain would slowly check out. 

Hanzo had always been a living corpse, but the beat never dies, and he relishes in that fact til the very last moment he’s conscious.


End file.
